


Hymenated - Bunker

by forlovedones



Series: The Hymenated Series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Chief Sam Winchester, Curses, F/M, First Time, Genderbending, Genderswap, Homemaker Dean Winchester, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam Winchester's Season 14 Angst Beard, Season/Series 14, Sex God Dean Winchester, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 13:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18895999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlovedones/pseuds/forlovedones
Summary: Season 14 Wincest porn, featuring: Sam's angsty Chief Beard (which I love.) Set somewhere around episode 3 or 4.  No real spoilers, just porn. p:Teaser:Sam finally got his other leg free and threw the jeans down. He was shaking. “Dean. That statue. Where did you get it?”“I- well I found some old Man of Letters’ hidden porn stash.”Sam rested his forehead on a palm. “You what?”(Part of a series of one-shots with a common theme, written because I have a very specific kink: canon-compliant Winchesters with magical girl bits. No boobs, no cross dressing, just the lower fun parts. ... Yes I am ashamed. Enjoy! :D)





	Hymenated - Bunker

Dean was trying, he really was. But he felt like his in-laws were invading his home on Christmas. Or, Thanksgiving? Is that when in-laws gate crash? Whatever, Ben Stiller's useless as a reference anyway.

So even though there were currently dozens of alternate universe hunters using the bunker as a base of operations, kicking it in the ass, he couldn't bring himself to be part of it. He smiled and talked and got his food and got out of there asap each time.

But he did want to be useful so when someone mentioned they needed two more rooms cleared he jumped on it. Housekeeping was his secret thing man.

“Dean,” Sam called after him. Dean slowed to listen. He could tell from the look on his brother's furry face that Sam knew exactly what he was up to. “Bring some curse boxes, just incase.”

“Yessir chief,” Dean saluted. He could feel Sam's beard-frown on his back as he left.

\---

Okay maybe Dean had jumped on this detail too fast. Cleaning out bedrooms was boring. He cleared clutter, dusted and swept and mopped, changed lightbulbs, then went to find extra chairs and blankets and pillows, which meant he had to play it nice with that day's laundry attendant. Seriously, there must be some large chore chart somewhere because someone different was always doing the laundry now, and food appeared in the kitchen like magic.

He threw pillows on the bed. There. A room.

He pursed his lips and sighed. He wanted to make a joke about breaking in the new bed, but there was no one around to tell it to.

He picked up the pair of empty curse boxes he'd brought with him incase he stumbled across a cursed object while cleaning, but he hadn't needed them. The worst thing he'd found was a pair of moldy leather shoes, and they'd gone straight into the trash.

Whatever. He'd go sneak some dinner and see if _Zoolander_ had any home invader tips for him.

The floor squeaked under him when he turned. He paused, and bounced a bit. _Squeak squeak squeak._

“Well whadda we have here…” He set the boxes on the bed and knelt down to examine the floor. One of the floorboards was just slightly bowed. He pulled out his switchblade, got an edge under and pried it up. “Come ooon Busty Asian Beauties…”

He tossed the board aside. There were some old magazines inside, scantily clad ones–“Sweet!”–but there was more underneath.

He had to pull to get it to come out of the small hidden compartment. It was a statue, about a foot tall. He blew on it to get the dust and disintegrating paper shavings off. It was made of dark, polished wood and had the creepiest face on it. “Woah. Hey, beautiful.” It was shaped like a squat humanoid with a long neck covered in intricate necklaces, the rest of the body nude. He examined it closer and could see it was actually two pieces put together: top and bottom. Was there something inside? He tugged at it.

“Hey Dean,” Sam called as he came around the corner, looking at his tablet.

The statue twisted in Dean's hands and slipped out of his grip. “Shit.” Did it break?

It rolled across the floor and hit Sam's boot. Sam bent to pick it up. “What are you-” Before he even touched it Sam made eye contact with it, and the eye sockets that Dean would swear were empty holes a second ago lit up. “What the-” Sam jumped back and hit his head on the doorframe. “Ow! What–what the _hell,_ Dean!”

Dean grabbed the statue before Sam stepped on it. “Woah dude careful!” It looked fine. Dean could see the two pieces had twisted, and the statue had a different pair of legs on it now. So it rotated, like a slot machine?

“Dean put that down, it shot me!”

“Calm down, it did not.”

“It did, like–like heat vision or–woah.”

Dean looked up. Sam was teetering where he stood. “Sam?”

Sam grabbed the doorframe as his knees seemed to buckle. The tablet fell from numb fingers. “ _Guh-jhh!_ ” His eyes were wide and his jaw was clenched as he seemed to be fighting to stay upright.

“Woah, Sammy!” Dean dropped the statue on the bed and went to steady his brother.

Sam clutched at him. “Something–something's happening!” Then he gasped, almost like a whine, and tottered over to the bed, sitting on the edge.

Dean hovered. “Okay–alright,  _what_ is happening?”

“I-I don't– _hah!_ ” Sam gasped. “My–my guts-” He was pressing both his hands over his bellybutton area.

“Hey don't puke!” Dean grabbed the statue again, and a curse box, and locked it in. “There, okay? It's sealed! Sam?”

Sam groaned and his hands slid lower.

“Sam?”

“My- my-” Sam was struggling with his zipper.

Dean put up both hands. “Woah man, hey-”

Sam gasped again, “Dean! My-” He got his jeans open and the elastic of his boxers pushed back. He made a small, high pitched sound of shock and outrage and confusion, one that Dean swore to himself he wouldn't mock him for later.

Dean leaned forward, just to peek. Because his little brother was super-sized in every other area, so curiosity was completely natural right?

“Woah.”

Okay so first off, his brother was hairless down there. Weird. Second, there was nothing to see. Weirder.

Sam made that sound again.

“Sooo not a show-er then huh?”

“Dean.” Sam huffed through his nose like a freaking rhino. “I'm gonna kill you!” He lifted his hips to shimmy his pants down farther with one hand, pulling at his boxers with the other. He was bending himself nearly in half to get a look at his groin.

Yeah okay, Dean was getting a clearer picture now. “Dude, you're a chick!”

Sam was holding his knees with shaking hands. “Shut the door.”

Dean reached back without looking and bumped it shut.

“Lock it!” Sam barked.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to lock it. “Fussy bitch.”

“What the hell did you do, Dean!” Sam yelled. He'd pulled up the boxers but was working to get his shoes and pants off.

“What, it wasn't always like that? What are you doing?”

“It's freaking hot in here and _of course not!_ ” Sam spit out vehemently.

“Well how would I know? Maybe you Jenner-gendered yourself or something.” Dean dodged being kicked in his own groin area by a long flailing leg. “It's not hot Sam.”

Sam finally got his other leg free and threw the jeans down. He was shaking. “Dean. The statue. Where did you get it?”

“I–well I found some old Man of Letters’ hidden porn stash.”

Sam rested his forehead on a palm. “You what?”

“Yeah, you know, hidden in the floor. Skin mags and-” he glanced at the hole and saw something else, under more crumpled pieces of paper. He pulled it out. “-uh. Panty hose?”

Sam was pulling off his outer shirts now. “What?”

“Yeah, whoever lived here must have been into some kinky shit.”

“You _think?_ ” Sam exclaimed, finally free of his flannel, his hair a mess from pulling it all over his head instead of unbuttoning, leaving him in his white undershirt and boxers. He was gasping.

Dean dropped the hose, and wiped his hands on his jeans. “But I sealed it up; you're still feeling cursed?”

“Yes, Dean, I'm still feeling cursed!” he snapped. 

“Alright, calm down. What does it feel like?”

“It…” Sam was flushed, maybe feverish.  “It uh…”

“Any pain?”

Sam was clenching and unclenching his hands. “No…”

Dean crouched down in front of his brother. “Sam?”

“It’s… hot.” He was still breathing fast, and Dean noticed Sam was shifting where he sat too. Shifting his hips.

Dean licked his lower lip. “Yeah?”

Sam was staring down at Dean. “My pulse is... racing. One-fifty at least.”

Dean was feeling some of that himself. “Yeah? Anything else?”

Sam’s hands slid up his thighs. He shifted again.

“Anything else, Sam?”

“Goose… goosebumps.” Sam shivered.  His hands had roved up to his abs. He gripped at his shirt.

Dean shifted closer. “Sounds like you could use some help.”

“Yeah,” Sam panted, “the statue…”

Dean reached forward and rested his hands on Sam’s bare knees. Sam inhaled, and his thighs twitched.

“I was thinking something more direct,” Dean said, and slid his thumbs forward.

“Wha- what?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed.

God that was cute. “Yeah.” Dean scratched his nails up Sam’s bare thighs. Sam moaned softly, his clutching hands scrunching his shirt up his flat waist. Dean could see his abdomen twitch too.

“Wait– _hahh_ –Dean?" Sam gasped.

Dean shifted to his knees, his arms rested on Sam’s legs, his fingertips playing with the edge of Sam’s boxers. He kept his eyes on Sam’s face. “Come on, don’t you wanna try? I’m really good.”

“Good?” Sam murmured, watching Dean’s hands.

“Yeah. Really good.” He slid one hand forward and rubbed the crease between Sam’s thighs and waist. Sam panted louder. “The best.”

Sam was shaking his head. “But… but uh...”

“I think our chief deserves a break. You’ve been putting in some pretty long hours. Not even enough time to shave the fur off your face.” Dean slid the hand over and cupped Sam’s new junk through the boxers. Sam groaned. It was hot, and muggy; Dean could feel the dampness that was building underneath. He slowly slid the heel of his hand up and down Sam’s soft mound. “And I haven’t been pulling my weight either.”

Sam’s eyes looked unfocused, and his clutching hands had slid up to his chest.

Rubbing at his nipples.

Dean groaned, a deep rumble in his chest. He'd never thought about Sam like this before, but now that it was happening? He couldn't resist, and leaned forward to mouth at Sam’s new pussy through the fabric. He could feel the heat radiating there, and slid his hands up into the boxers to squeeze the long tendons of Sam’s inner thighs. Sam’s legs fell open on their own as he panted loudly now, each breath a small moan, every other one interrupted by a small, “Dean, Dean,” as Sam curled over Dean’s moving head, his whole body trembling.

Dean felt feral, mouthing the damp fabric, tasting Sam for the first time. It was familiar, from a lifetime of loving this kid in every way but this one. It made his blood tingle to think about it. He grinned as he worked, pushing his tongue between two sets of puffy lips to poke at his new target, pulling the boxers as tight as they’d go to get as deep as he could. Then he kissed his way up to the small, hard nub at the top and rocked it with his mouth. Sam moaned above him and one hand fell to Dean’s head, clutching at his short hair. Dean could feel him shaking, tremors in perfect sync with Dean’s mouth.

It was a heady feeling, doing that to Sam; big, strong, always-composed Sam. Dean also enjoyed feeling his pulse in his own dick as he worked, but didn’t move to touch it yet, just enjoyed the pressure of it pushing against the inside of his jeans as he knelt.

Dean pulled his hands out of the boxers and leaned his head away. Sam moaned his distress and weakly tried to push Dean’s head back in. Dean ran soothing hands up and down Sam’s thighs. “Sammy. Sammy.”

Sam blinked his eyes open to look at Dean, his mouth hanging slack.

“Almost there Sammy, don’t worry. Deep breaths.”

Dean was pretty sure Sam tried to glare, but Dean slid his hands forward then and rubbed both thumbs over the sensitized clit. Sam punched out an unexpected groan instead, his chin falling to his chest. He had both hands in Dean’s hair now. His calloused fingers sent tingles down Dean’s neck.

“That’s it. Breathe through it. Almost there.”

Sam groaned again and doubled over, his hips rocking instinctually into Dean’s thumbs. Dean pressed through it, gently rocking the clit back and forth as Sam moved, listening to Sam's loud, deep huffs of breath.

“Gonna,” Sam gasped, “gonna-”

“Yeah. Yeah, come on Sam.”

Sam’s whole body shuddered, and stiffened. The air froze in his lungs as his thighs quaked. Dean stopped rubbing and pressed a closed fist over the whole area, giving Sam something to push into as he came, and soothed Sam’s leg with the other hand. “There you go. That’s it. Good boy.”

Sam gasped, pushed again, then breathed through his teeth as he unclenched. Then he seemed to lose his strength. Most of his weight was resting on Dean’s head and shoulders. His whole body was shaking.

Dean moved to rub Sam’s lower back, soothing him through it. “Good, right? Nice and deep. Tingles all the way inside.”

Sam made a frustrated noise.

Dean stood up slowly, easing Sam backwards. He got one hand under his rump too, lifting the bigger man up.

“Woah–Dean, what-?”

Dean knelt on the bed and dropped Sam down in the middle of it. The old springs creaked. “What? You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Sam pushed himself up on his elbows. “Dean, this is crazy. I want my dick back!”

“Oh calm down drama queen, I’m sure it isn’t permanent.” Dean toed off his boots and started working on his jeans. He sighed his relief when his neglected erection finally sprang free. He palmed it gently. “I’ll make you wish it was though.”

Sam was watching him with apprehension. “What, with your magic dick?”

“Exactly…” Dean crawled forward between Sam's legs, leaning his mouth closer to Sam’s ear. “You think that last round was good? We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

Sam swallowed. “Oh yeah?” he croaked, trying for sarcasm and mostly failing.

“Yeah,” Dean said confidently. He leaned in further, smiling. “I’ll show you. Trust me, Sam.” He ran a hand up Sam’s chest and gently pushed him down. Sam was still shaking, and his arms gave out as he fell back. He defensively tried to close his legs, but Dean was already there holding them open and lifting Sam’s hips to slide one of the pillows underneath. Sam squirmed, clutching at the clean blanket under him as Dean finally slide the damp, ruined boxers off. Dean tossed them aside, and they landed with a wet flop on the floor. Then he let Sam's legs drop, falling on either side of his hips, leaving Sam’s new hole open and exposed.

Sam flushed with embarrassment. He moved to cover himself with his hands, pulling the hem of his shirt down. Dean gently pushed them aside, using his thumbs to pull the slit open. It was wet, soaking wet and dripping, swollen pink and puffy from all of Dean’s attention. The clit was a small hard nub poking straight up out of its pocket. Dean felt like licking it all over again, this time without anything in the way. He licked his lips but didn’t give into the urge this time. He had other plans.

He started with opening his mouth and sticking in two of the fingers of his right hand, licking them while making eye contact with Sam. Sam furrowed his brow again, staring back, his eyes flitting from Dean’s eyes to his mouth and back. His breathing was picking up again.

Dean licked the backs of the fingers too. “How’s it feel now? Still hot?”

Sam nodded, watching the fingers.

“Your pulse?”

“S...slower.”

“Liar.”

Dean lowered the hand, fingers dripping, and slide the tips over Sam’s outer folds. Sam’s feet shifted on the comforter. He was starting to pant again.

Dean talked while he worked. “You’ll have to tell me what it feels like. To have a pussy.” He slid his thumb up to the underside of Sam’s clit, and poked just the tip of his middle finger into Sam’s new hole, swirling it. “A vagina.”

Sam let out a small groan, his knees gripping Dean’s sides.

Dean slid the thumb up the underside of the clit and the middle finger inside to his second knuckle, then down and out again, slowly, slowly. Sam’s legs shuddered. Dean repeated the thrusting, a slow, gentle rhythm. “How it feels to have me in you.” He slid his other hand up Sam’s chest over the white shirt. Sam’s nipples were two hard peaks under the cotton fabric. He gently scratched around one of them.

Sam’s head fell back onto the mattress, exposing his long, corded throat. He was chewing his lip, probably trying to stay quiet.

Dean slide the one finger out and replaced it with two, spearing in deeper now but just as slowly. Sam’s hips were sliding back and forth again, rolling into Dean’s thumb. It was so hot to watch all that muscle working together at Dean’s fingertips.

Sam grabbed the hand playing around his nipple and pulled it away, panting harder now. He started to sit up.

None of that. Dean shoved in three fingers, hard, and bent them into the soft pillowed walls of Sam's insides. Sam gasped and fell back again, one arm falling over his eyes. Dean twisted his wrist and Sam’s hips twisted with it as Dean made his brother groan. “Come on, we’re not done yet Sam.” He pumped the three fingers in and out faster now, twisting with each thrust. Sam was pushing up into it, his heels digging into the bed, toes curling. He reached out shaky hands to grab Dean’s wrist but didn’t seem to have the strength to do more than hold on. His eyes were blinking blindly up at the ceiling now. Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off him.

When Sam’s pants for air started to catch unevenly in his throat, Dean finally slowed and pulled his hand away. A string of pussy juice followed his fingers out. Sam groaned in frustration and thumped his head back. “Fucking- tease-! _Haah!_ ” His hair was a mess around him, sweat dripping from his forehead.

Dean could relate. He grinned in anticipation. “Oh? Changed your mind then?” He shoved the fingers in again and ground them against a spot inside that made Sam’s ass twitch.

“Yes! Fuck! I changed my mind!” Sam squeezed Dean with his thighs.

“You sure? Cuz you weren’t too keen on it a minute ago.” He ground the fingers in hard again. “You wanted your dick back.”

Sam groaned and grabbed at Dean’s shoulders, gripping his shirt with hands that shook. “Dean- I swear to god-”

“Ready for the best part then?”

“Yes!” Sam panted. “Yes! Just- please-”

Dean pulled his fingers out and Sam sighed his relief. He was completely boneless as Dean maneuvered Sam’s legs up on his shoulders, and shifted his own groin forward flush with Sam’s. Dean gripped Sam’s ass with one hand, and his own dick with the other, guiding it forward.

“Deep breaths, Sammy. Nice and slow.” Sam seemed to obey automatically, huffing through his nose, his eyes shut.

Dean didn’t shut his eyes. He wanted to watch his erection disappearing into that perfect hole, inch by inch. He worked it in and out as he went, two steps forward, one step back, until he was all the way in, deeper than his fingers had reached before. He could feel the pussy stretching to accommodate him fully, his length touching all of Sam’s walls all the way to the back. Perfect fit.

Dean leaned forward, his head above Sam’s. Sam easily bent under the pressure. Yoga body. So sexy.

“Ready?” Dean panted.

Sam didn’t open his eyes, but he nodded.

Dean kept it shallow and slow at first, gentle with Sam’s new equipment. Dean hadn’t been with many virgins in his day, but he knew how to treat one. Sam huffed through his nose through the first few thrusts, then twisted to pant through his mouth, eyes screwed tight. Dean leaned forward even farther, wanting to feel that breath on his skin. “Sammy,” he breathed.

Sam squinted his eyes open, and reached up a shaking hand to cup Dean’s face. He skritched his fingers in Dean’s sideburn and shut his eyes again.

It was Dean’s turn to groan. His pace picked up. He slid his hands up Sam’s sides, pinched his nipples, then slid them down again, leaning most his weight on Sam’s long legs. Sam shuddered. Dean could feel him losing control again, his hips shifting from side to side, like they do in those stupid low hanging pajama pants of his. So hot. This was so hot. Dean couldn’t believe his luck. He would kiss that kinky Man of Letters’ feet if he were here.

Sam’s hand fell to the bed again and grabbed at the comforter. His head kept rolling from side to side in time with his rolling hips. He was gasping louder now, his chest shuddering. On impulse, Dean paused for a moment to grab those hands and guide them up to Sam’s chest, resting them near Sam’s nipples. Sam blinked up at him, trying to focus on Dean’s face. Dean held the hands there while he leaned back to get more leverage, and started thrusting again. Sam moaned and pushed into it, only his shoulders touching the bed now. His hands rubbed up and down over his own nubs reflexively, and he sucked in deep, uneven breaths, unable to stop, out of control. He let out a long, loud groan that sizzled in Dean’s ears and pushed him to fuck harder.

Dean shifted his hands to the back of Sam’s knees. He was pushing in deep and fast now, hitting what he knew was Sam’s new favorite spot just north of his womb-hole, or whatever it’s called. He could tell by the way it made Sam shake and almost whimper as he fought to breathe.

“Almost–almost there Sammy. You’re doing great. So hot. It feels so good. God…” Dean fought to breathe. He wasn’t sure if Sam even heard him at this point, his mouth slack and open, his eyes unseeing and blown wide with lust. But Dean could feel that Sam was close, so close, just a bit more-

He reached a hand down and pressed on Sam’s abdomen, right above his pussy, and Sam’s whole body shuddered as that pushed him over the edge. He was cumming and groaning, his insides convulsing around Dean’s member in all the right ways. Dean slowed his thrusts to help Sam ride through it, one shuddering wave at a time, and finally slowed to a stop when Sam went slack below him, his arousal a dull throb that Dean could see pulsing in his neck.

“There you go. There it is.” Dean rubbed his hands up and down Sam’s arms, gentle and loving. “So good, right? So deep.” He pushed his erection in gently, and Sam gasped at the feeling, blinking slowly. His lashes were wet. “I’ll bet it’s throbbing right? That’s why it feels so good.” He pushed in again. Sam moaned. “It’s all swollen and puffy with your love juice.” Another push. Dean could feel that juice leaking out around him, squelching with it. Sam pushed up into it and moaned again.

“Dean,” he croaked, nearly whispered.

“Yeah baby, nearly done, almost there.” He rubbed Sam’s thighs. “Just a bit more? For me?” He pushed in again, and Sam groaned and nodded weakly.

Dean shifted up onto his knees and folded Sam nearly in half. Time for the home stretch. He slid his cock in faster now, harder, racing for the finish. Sam whimpered, then dropped his legs down to wrap around Dean’s hips. Dean held Sam's ass still with two big hands and shoved in, over and over, driving Sam back toward the headboard. Sam let him, cupping Dean’s face with both hands. He pulled that face down further, folding himself even more, Dean practically laying down on top of him. He kept fucking. Sam leaned up, inches from Dean’s face, staring into his eyes. Dean couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed his stupid brother’s stupid bearded face. Sam kissed him back and moaned into it, demanding and pushy and hot. Then he suddenly pulled back.

“Wait- Dean- Dean-”

“Huh?” Dean gasped intelligently.

“Could be–what if–the statue.” Sam gasped for breath. “Fer-fertility. Fertility statue, maybe. You have to-”

That was the last straw. Dean groaned at the thought and pushed his seed in, deep in his brother’s magic womb. God, it was stupid, but- but-

Dean rubbed Sam’s lower abdomen and imagined it, just for a few seconds, and pumped in just a few drops more.

Sam seemed too weak to care, racked with shivers, his face buried in Dean's neck.

\---

Jack and Charlie stood outside the door.

Jack’s head was cocked to the side. “Are they… alright in there?”

Charlie just huffed. “It’s about freakin’ time.” She pointed a finger at Jack. “Don’t bother them until tomorrow morning.” Then she picked up Sam’s tablet from off the hallway floor and walked away.

\---

Sam’s dick was back in the morning. Thank god; otherwise Dean was 90% sure Sam would have murdered him right there in their love bed.

Sam had Dean cautiously open the curse box to check on the statue. Somehow, its legs had gotten turned around again to the original position. Now that Dean looked closer he could see this set of legs sported a pudgy cock near the groin. He flipped the statue over, and the set of legs facing the back had a small diamond shape in the same place that must represent Dean's favorite new toy.

Also, turns out there was a manual for the thing in the Man of Letters’ porn box too. Well, more of a memo really. You just twist to activate, stare into its eyes, and bam, instant vajayjay. Then, you could either wait it out and it’ll change back on its own in 24 hours, or you can use it for what it’s made for and just pump the hormones out of you.

Sweet. Double sweet.

Sam, of course, confiscated it right away. It took Dean three days to find where he’d hidden it.

“ _Dean!_ ” Sam’s angry shout echoed down the hallway into Dean’s room.

He grinned, and changed his pose on his bed to one a bit more lascivious. “Heya Sexy,” he said as Sam stormed into the room.

Sam threw the statue at him. “I found this in my desk, you dick!”

Dean caught it on his chest with a thump that wasn’t too painful. “So?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Did you look into its eyes?”

Sam was short of breath, and his knees were wobbling. 

Dean grinned even wider. “Awesome.”

Sam slammed the door shut and locked the deadbolt, then turned and started angrily shucking off his clothes. “This is an–inappropriate–relationship!”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean said without nearly enough contrition, working to get his jeans off too, “just get your smooth baby cheeks over here, princess. It’s time for your next lesson.”

**Author's Note:**

> *fizzle*


End file.
